From People-Hating Hermit to Wilderness Nutjob: A Glorious Downward Spiral

So here's the thing, most of you didn’t know the pre-hiking hag. Oh, she was a treat—socially awkward, borderline antisocial, and utterly devoted to the art of avoiding all possible pain. Physical, emotional, metaphorical—take your pick.

People? Euugh. Avoid at all costs—because, no one lives forever. and attachment just leads to hurt. And positivity? Please. The only foolproof way to dodge disappointment is to expect the absolute worst at all times. (Which, isn’t the greatest idea if you believe in the laws of attraction... which I do.... so here we are.)

Honestly....not a huuuuge amount has changed... I’m still somewhat of a delight (humble, obviously). But you know, I thought my plan to stay comfortably in my little shell was foolproof. I was wrong, because life had other plans. Stubborn, irritating, unpredictable life.

So there I was, this charming little bundle of people-hating, anti-excitement, emotion-suppressing stubbornness, whose people in her life only existed because some masochists stuck around despite her best efforts to repel them. Stupid, stubborn lot. Applause to them, really—it’s a testament to their endurance, not my charm. Well, except my children, Salt and Pepper—they had no choice; I fed and clothed them. They’re stuck with me.

Self-awareness? Oh, I’ve got that. And honestly? I’m pretty convinced that most people are just as broken as I am, they’re just better at pretending they’re not. Smarter way to live, maybe. But whatever.

Anyway, back to the point (yes, there is one). The other day, a friend sent me a voice note—something about my first camping trip being cancelled, assuming I found hikes, blah blah blah. I replied, that I was still bitter about the cancellation, but smugly informed her that, of course, I still hiked and had an upcoming rustic (read: terrifying) camping weekend. And mid-rant, something hit me.

This is me now. Some people want five-star hotels, champagne brunches, and designer lives. I want dirt, exhaustion, and to be lost in nature. And while we were all busy drowning in the chaos of raising kids and keeping our heads above water, we were—more or less—living parallel lives. But once that phase ended? The differences came roaring back.

Suddenly, I’m the unhinged lunatic friend. The one who hikes and (maybe...soon we see) camps for fun, and people think I’m going through a “phase.” But maybe it’s not a phase. Maybe it’s just that I finally got what I actually want.

Either way, this particular nut-job has catapulted so far out of her comfort zone she's honestly not sure what’s even happening anymore. That text I sent my friend? A year ago, neither of us would’ve believed it came from me. Or wait, was that even me? Me who?

Which brings me to the bigger point: (I know, I know, you thought my blogs were just going to be about hiking, but sometimes I veer off course. Regular programming will resume shortly… or not.) Every person has a story, but hikers? Oh, hikers definitely have stories. Sure, some do it for fitness or social fun (good for them). But then there are the ones who have to hike. No matter the weather, the obstacles, or the logistics.. That’s me.

And now perhaps.... camping. Camping?? The same person who doesn’t do communal anything, who loathes mosquitoes, fears snakes, and would kill for a good night’s sleep. Who would’ve thought?

A therapist could probably write an entire dissertation on why I’m suddenly choosing this—why I’ve thrown myself into the chaos of camping, hiking, and pushing my limits in ways I’ve always avoided. They could break it down into all sorts of neat, psychological explanations about self-sabotage, fear of change, or some deep-seated need for validation. But honestly? I couldn’t care less.

Because right now, I’m terrified. I’m exhausted. I’m physically challenged in ways I didn’t think I could handle. I’m completely out of my depth—mentally, emotionally, and physically. There’s something so deeply satisfying about the discomfort. It’s like the very thing I spent my whole life avoiding—unpredictability, fear, the unknown—has become the thing I crave the most.

And oddly enough, I’m thriving in it. The challenge and the rawness of it all.

So yes, maybe I’m still a socially awkward, borderline antisocial mess. But it’s my mess, and I’m embracing it fully.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. Regular programming resumes in the next Blog!